


The Last Refuge of the Complex

by Castalie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castalie/pseuds/Castalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a hedonist at heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Refuge of the Complex

**Author's Note:**

> [Story originally posted in 2008] References to "All Hell Break Loose" I & II. Title comes from a quote by Oscar Wilde: "I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex"

Dean is a hedonist at heart. Unfortunately, he can't practice his art as much as he'd like because he's just too busy doing other things - fighting evil, losing people he loves, fighting evil, guarding his brother's corpse, selling his soul, fighting evil again... It all takes a lot of time. A lot of _him_.

But Dean shrugs it off; he knows where his priorities lie, learned them when he was four. In fact, they were more or less branded on his soul with blood and ashes. Contrary to popular belief - _Sam_ 's - he's a quick study, so he's always known that duty comes first, and he accepts it without complaint. It's not a problem; he simply makes do with what he can find. He's had a lot of practice doing so.

In the midst of the chaos that is his everyday life, he still manages to take pleasure in small, simple things. He enjoys them to the fullest, sometimes even to an extreme, and it doesn't bother him to admit it. As far as Dean's concerned, Life owes him, bigtime. It's a sort of deal he made - yes, another one, long ago - he agrees to pay in blood and tears and sacrifices and abnegation but, every now and then, he demands a little bit of pleasure in return. Hell, it's only fair.

Sam can't really understand what inspires Dean's decadent drives. Sam had once expected to be finished with hunting eventually, and return to 'normal', and he'd seemed willing to defer _his_ pleasures until that came true. Somehow, he's never quite given up that dream, but Dean has always known it'll never happen, has known it since he held his little brother in his arms and watched their home burn, and now he has a deadline hanging over his head. So, fuck that. 'Make hay while the sun shines' has always seemed the most sensible solution - and it's a hell of a lot more fun than waiting till some distant 'someday'.

So, wherever he is, Dean looks around and lets himself see what's available to bring him pleasure. It's a matter of practice, a matter of knowing where to look and how to grab the opportunities, and being able to content himself with the little things. Easy as pie.

Dean likes easy women who flirt with him in the seedy bars he sometimes visits, who'll suck his dick like their lives depended on it. He doesn't care how trashy they might be, he loves that they're so eager to have a piece of him that they'll let him fuck them in back alleys or in his car without so much as a word of protest; it's all about the wanting and the needing and the urgent, primal drives. No complications, no promises. Nothing. Just simple, raw pleasure.

Dean likes tall, muscled men who come on to him aggressively and fuck him hard and fast and, oh yeah, fuck him so good, so _deep_ that he'll remember it the day after. Bathrooms might not be the classiest places to take a dick up his ass, but he enjoys the urgency, enjoys how dirty it makes the act... and it makes the pleasure that much sharper, that much more enjoyable.

Dean figures that low standards only apply when you have the opportunity to have high standards. That was a luxury Dean didn't have for as long as he can remember - not until Sam gave him something better.

So, Dean loves great tits and big cocks and the life he lives has taught him not to hope for more than that. Besides, he loves to come. He loves sex, period, and he'll take it any way it's offered. They're all consenting adults, after all; what's wrong with a little pleasure every now and then? Since he'll never have 'forever', he'll take 'now' instead - and he'll take it as often as he can get it.

And Dean loves food. Real food, the kind that is greasy and bad for your arteries, not the pseudo-healthy crap they try to sell you. In his book, that's bad for the soul. He wants substance; he wants meaty, he wants juicy, he wants to feel full. When you get right down to it, it's actually similar to having sex. No wonder he likes it so much, right?

According to Sam, Dean doesn't eat, he 'pigs out'. For Dean, it's simply a question of being able to enjoy the moment. Carpe diem and all that shit, because who knows what tomorrow will bring, right?

So, yeah, maybe he wolfs down his food, maybe he does pig out. But, sometimes, he remembers days when he went without food so that _Sam_ wouldn't and, hey, he's just trying to make up for lost time.

Not that he'd ever admit it to his brother. Sam would only get this _look_ on his face and feel guilty over something that happened decades ago, something that Dean never even considered as an issue and it'll piss him off. It's much better to keep some childhood facts to himself.

Anyway, he's not Cosette, thank you very much, and he isn't trying to compensate for a childhood that really wasn't all that grim. He simply doesn't intend to waste good opportunities to fill his stomach. Besides, his hearty appetite - and that's all it is, dammit - usually annoys Sam, and winding him up is a hobby that Dean enjoys immensely. It's like killing two birds with one stone. What's not to love?

Dean also loves cars, especially _his_ car. It's gorgeous and shiny and sexy and fast. That's the first reason, the one that people see, the one that he'll admit out loud. The second reason is strictly 'need to know' - and he's the only one who has that need.

The thing is, the Impala is _home_ , the one constant in his life when he grew up. Before it was given to him, before it became his, it was _theirs_ , Dad's and Sam's and his. Dean can think of the Impala and associate his family with it. He likes that.

It's a refuge, a secluded space away from the world, a protected place where he always has Sam at his side. Sometimes when they're driving, all alone on a distant, deserted road, it feels like it's only Sam and him in the whole world. No-one else to come and ruin it.

The Impala has become a secret, secure little box where Dean can store parts of Sam for safekeeping - like his snores at night when Dean doesn't feel like stopping at a motel. He wouldn't admit it under torture, but he takes comfort in the sound. It's familiar, soothing, _safe_. And then there's Sam's scent in the morning - all spicy and musky and sometimes a bit ripe, but always very _Sam_.

When Dean goes to hell, he hopes he'll be able to remember moments like these, when life pretended to be easy and simple, when it was just Sam softly snoring on his right, face slackened in sleep, music playing softly in the background, the road ahead of him, the sound of the engine rumbling around them... nothing but him and Sam and a world of possibilities.

He even loves arguing inside the car because there, at least, he knows Sam won't be able to storm off, won't leave him alone. Besides, if he plays it right, they'll make up and forget about the reasons behind the screaming, and work out their frustrations with Sam nailing him as soon as they find a private spot. They might have to wait till later, but later can be very good.

Finally, and most important, Dean loves Sam. Oh, sure, he still looks and flirts with anyone who catches his eye - or whose eye he catches - and sometimes, if Sam is in the mood to share, he'll let Dean have a little fun with them. But it doesn't really count, and they both know it.

They say all roads lead to Rome but, for Dean, all roads - all thoughts - lead to Sam. And he likes it that way.

But it can't really be counted as a 'simple pleasure'. It's so damn _big_ , just like Sam himself. It's huge and scary and crazy. But worth it. Always. No matter how much it fucking hurts, sometimes.

With Sam, it's simply, and fundamentally, about _everything_. It's dirty, hurried sex in back alleys and bathrooms, but it's also fucking in a bed for hours, and then doing it all over again when morning comes. It's rough thrusts against a wall with soft words breathed against the back of Dean's neck.

It's about eating junk food on the hood of the Impala and joking about the most stupid things and forgetting - for a few brief moments - demons and deals and time running out. It's about saving people, about honoring Dad's memory. It's taking impossible risks and worrying for each other. It's never having a normal life, but making the best of what they do have. It's arguing and fighting but always ending the day together.

Loving Sam is watching his lifeless body, still and silent on a dusty mattress, and realizing that life isn't worth living without him in it. Dean loves Sam more than he loves himself and, while he admits that it's fucked-up and wrong, he couldn't care less.

To be honest, Dean wants Sam to save him. Wants it so bad it's painful sometimes, as if he couldn't breathe and his skin was stretched too tight. Not that he regrets what he did; he will never regret it. If need be, he'd do it again in a heartbeat. That's not the point. The point is, leaving Sam behind sounds so unnatural to Dean, so _wrong_ , that it physically hurts him to think about it. It goes against everything that Dean was taught, everything Dean _is_. This is what hurts him the most... not his death, not his damnation, but the fact that, by saving Sam, Dean is also abandoning him.

There's no getting around this fact, and it's nothing but pain... so Dean has to turn that pain into pleasure. Use the knowledge that, even if Sam ends up hating him, at least he'll be alive to do so.

Sometimes there's not a lot to work with, but Dean has always been resourceful. It doesn't matter what little he can find, he'll make the best of what he has.

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always extremely grateful for Starwatcher307's beta but this time she worked even harder with me so huge and heartfelt 'thanks' to her *hugs* And thanks to Ninjetti75 for offering to help and for the encouragements.


End file.
